Reject
by Classy Abigail
Summary: Bakura made a mistake. Ryou made one, too. Can two wrongs make a right? Rated T for minor violence. Tendershipping. University/College-style AU.


Ryou sat in the very first row of the classroom, listening to the lecture being given and meticulously penning down every word that was said by the professor. He was oblivious to the people around him; his focus was entirely on the subject matter of the class. The notes he took, with the ink still slightly wet, were in a careful, measured script. God forbid he would be unable to decipher his own writing.

The quiet chattering of the students around him were a low hum in his ears, barely audible under his own thoughts. He shook his snow white bangs away from his face and rolled his soft brown eyes skyward quickly as an outlet for his annoyance before returning his focus to his notes. However, his thoughts had distracted him, and his mind wandered.

Did the people around him really not care about their futures? Ryou could scarcely believe that was the case, for he knew how people like that worked. People like that never came to class at all. Case in point: Bakura. It really was a wonder how a person like that had managed to still be enrolled aside from the fact that Ryou always let him read the notes he took. Ryou chalked it up to that person's rich parents, but, then again, Bakura never missed an exam when one was being given.

His eyes narrowed. Why did he always have to think about that guy, anyway? He returned to his work with a fervor, chastising himself for letting his thoughts stray. Unlike him, Ryou was a scholarship student at the prestigious Harvard University. Harvard didn't take many students on scholarship, which meant that Ryou had to be constantly on his guard so that his grades wouldn't slip. One bad test grade or missed homework assignment and he would be packing for Japan the very next day. Of course, if he ever took a step back and surveyed his position, the teen really had nothing to worry about. He was in the top seat of his class, and no one had surpassed him in class rank in the two years he had been there. His parents would have been proud if they actually bothered to give a damn about him in the first place.

The professor stopped and looked at his watch, startling Ryou out of his thoughts with the sudden break in the information he was copying down. "Ah, that'll be all, class. Tomorrow, we'll have a quiz on today's material, so I hope you were all paying attention."

Many students looked immediately to Ryou, who sighed as he closed his spiral-bound notebook and stowed it away in his messenger bag. Without so much as acknowledging any of the hopeful students wanting to copy his notes, he strode out of class, intent on getting to the cafeteria before all of the fruit parfaits were gone. He didn't want to share his notes with anyone who was too lazy to take them on their own, especially if he wasn't going to get anything in return. All he wanted to do was grab lunch and head to his dorm to copy his notes from his notebook to his computer. Carrying his laptop around was too dangerous, as it could get broken or stolen, so he kept it in his dormitory where it was safer. He liked to take notes by hand, anyway, so it was a win-win, in a way.

The giant cafeteria building lay just ahead, and Ryou walked quickly towards it, hurrying over to the breakfast line and grabbing a cup of yogurt and granola. After paying for it, he hustled out the door again. In his haste, he didn't see the person just in front of him, and he squeaked in an undignified manner as strong hands wrapped around his forearms to keep him from slamming into the man to whom the hands belonged. "Watch where you're going, Ryou. What's the hurry?" he asked, and Ryou cringed in dismay at his voice. He looked up at the tall, disheveled appearance of his tormentor; he took in the familiar mess of knotted, white hair that was so like his own and the menacing, dark eyes that were so unlike his own. His glance darted briefly to the long scar just under the man's eye, and he shivered.

"I just want to head back to my dorm to copy my notes onto my computer, Bakura," he explained in an even tone that betrayed none of the panic and aversion he felt towards the man to whom he was speaking.

"Oh, well if that's the case, why don't I come with you?" Bakura asked, and before Ryou could shake his head no, he was pushing open the cafeteria doors. "Just let me grab lunch quick."

Ryou remained rooted to the spot, glaring after Bakura's retreating figure. Damn, but that man always knew what to do to manipulate him. Bakura never gave Ryou a choice. He knew where the smaller teen's dorm was, so there was no use in running away before he came back. "That's what you get for not being fast enough," he reprimanded himself quietly, clutching his breakfast cup as he awaited Bakura's return.

A few minutes later found them walking together at a relaxed pace, but Ryou felt nothing even close to relaxed. He knew how dangerous the person next to him was, and he knew that he wouldn't get away this time or any other time.

"How was class?" Bakura asked, draping an arm over Ryou's shoulders.

"Fine," Ryou replied curtly, turning his head to his right so he wouldn't have to meet his gaze.

Bakura huffed, putting his other hand in his pocket as he walked. "Pissy as always, I see. Well, that's fine. You'll tell me soon enough."

"And what makes you so sure?" Ryou asked, hating himself for knowing the answer already.

"Because we do this every day, and it always ends the same way," was the reply he knew would come.

* * *

><p>They arrived at the dormitories, and Ryou thrust the key into the lock of his first floor room, turning it hard in order to make it work. Scholarship students weren't given the best rooms on the campus, to say the least. He allowed Bakura to walk in before relocking it.<p>

The room was bathed in a yellow glow from the light fixture on the ceiling. Heavy curtains were drawn over the large window on the opposite side of the room. A single bed was pushed against the left wall, and a simple wooden desk sat facing the right wall. He walked over and tapped the space bar of the laptop on his desk, making the machine glow as it came to life. His messenger bag fell to the floor with a thud, and he sat down in his chair, ready to get back to work.

Bakura watched him work from the bed, playing on a handheld videogame that made really obnoxious noises. He alternated between monitoring the screen and glancing at Ryou. Though he didn't have eyes in the back of his head, Ryou knew that was what Bakura was doing; it was what he always did. Since Ryou never looked back, he couldn't accurately judge what the other was thinking. Oh, but he could guess as to what Bakura's emotions were: hurt, malice, vengefulness.

After about half an hour of this, Ryou finally cracked and spun his chair around. "Bakura, we need to talk. About us."

"Finally," Bakura replied, immediately shutting off the game.

"I'm serious," Ryou snapped, "I can't keep living like this."

"Like what?" the older teen asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Like this! I can't stand this constant apprehension and aggravation anymore!" he yelled, glad that they were the only ones on his floor at the moment. Things were going to get loud, as arguments with Bakura usually did. Then, he said more calmly, "You wear me out, Bakura."

"But I'm not doing anything," Bakura pointed out indignantly, waving his game in the air, "All I'm doing is patiently waiting for you to finish your homework so I can fuck you against the wall."

"See, that's it," Ryou retorted, blatantly ignoring his vulgarity, "Why do you do that? I'm tired of just guessing and wondering. I need answers, Bakura."

"Do what? Wait around so that I can fuck you?" he asked. When Ryou nodded affirmative, he smirked. "Because it would be rude not to let you finish your work before fucking you."

Ryou glared. "You know what I mean," he spat icily.

Bakura frowned softly, finally becoming serious. "No, I really don't know what you mean."

"Why do you still insist on being with me, almost like you want to be, even after…?" he trailed off, unwilling to put what he wanted to say, what he had done, into words. He walked over to Bakura gently and sat down in between his spread legs on the bed. Reaching up, he brushed his fingers gently over the scar under Bakura's eye. "After that." He closed his eyes and watched as his mind played back his memories like an old movie he had seen at least a hundred times.

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. Ryou was coming back from class, carrying a yellow umbrella and wearing a cheerful expression. He walked and walked all the way over to the upscale dormitories where Bakura lived. The mere thought of the man's name brought a soft smile to his face. Even though he was only a freshman at the college and a scholarship student at that, Bakura treated him like he was the most important person at Harvard.

They had met months ago on the first day of the school year. Bakura was reluctantly aiding the new students' parents to move their children in to their dorms. He must have seen Ryou, by far the tiniest freshman, lugging a heavy suitcase along the sidewalk and thought he needed help. That was when he realized Ryou was crying. Bakura offered to help him move in, and as they got to talking, Ryou revealed that his parents didn't want to be bothered with helping their youngest child move. They were only concerned with his older sister. The two had hit it off immediately and became fast friends. Ryou wasn't sure when exactly they'd started seeing each other romantically. It was just something that was obvious to them both after a while.

After walking a ways, Ryou came upon Bakura's building. Everyone in the building knew him to be Bakura's, so they all greeted him politely and stayed well out of his way as he ascended the stairs to his boyfriend's room. He knocked on Bakura's door, but no one answered. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. So, he settled himself down outside of the door to wait, occupying himself by imagining what Bakura could be doing that would make him late. Maybe a half an hour later, the door unexpectedly opened. That's when things got ugly. It wasn't Bakura who came out of the room. Oh, no, it was a tall, blonde girl wearing nothing but a long t-shirt, tiny shorts, and flip flops. Her hair was all messed up, and her eye make-up was running down her cheeks. Ryou stared in shock as she walked by, not even looking at him.

Bakura appeared at the door a few seconds later in his black boxer shorts, taking drags on a cigarette. He took one look at Ryou and swore profusely, dropping to his knees next to him. Before he could so much as utter another word, Ryou was on him, clawing and punching for all he was worth. His fingernail caught Bakura's lower eyelid, and he tore a long line in the flesh, not realizing right away what he had done. Bakura grabbed his boyfriend's wrists to stop him and slammed his eye shut as blood poured down his face.

Ryou shuddered as he brought himself back to the present, unwilling to relive the rest of his memory. He couldn't ever remember being more angry than he was in that moment. By nature, he was a forgiving, loving person, but he was so blinded by rage that he couldn't contain himself. And it had cost him and Bakura both dearly.

"You know I deserved that," Bakura whispered, running his knuckles along Ryou's jaw line, "I shouldn't have cheated. You know I deserved it for treating you like that."

Ryou was stunned into silence for a few seconds. "You didn't deserve it, Bakura," he replied quietly, placing a light kiss at the top of the scar, forcing Bakura to shut one eye. "How could you deserve it?" Even though their conversation was far from pleasant, Ryou let out a little sigh of contentment as Bakura circled his arms around him. He let his head rest on Bakura's shoulder and snuggled into the embrace. They hadn't been this close in what felt like forever. Though Bakura had continued be near him and they had never officially broken up, the incident had hung over them like a dark cloud. Ryou's personality quickly became bitter, and he lost his temper more easily. Now, the long overdue conversation was happening, and Ryou could almost feel himself returning to normal.

"I didn't know how I felt about you then. Or, I guess, I didn't realize that I did," he replied, running his fingers through Ryou's hair, "I've always cheated on the people I've dated. Yet, seeing the look on your face that day, I realized that you, dear Ryou, are impossible for me to cheat on."

Ryou gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," Bakura explained with a smile, "You're impossible for me to cheat on because you make me feel things that no one else can. Why in hell would I bother to cheat after having you?"

Ryou blushed and scowled. "Oh. Bakura only meant that he was the best screw on campus. How romantic.

"No, no, no, don't go getting mad again," Bakura protested with a shake of his head, "I meant that, while you are a fantastic lay, you're also the only one that I want to go out with. I realized after that day that sex wasn't just sex to me anymore." He stopped and shook his head again. "This is really hard to explain."

"I think I get it," Ryou answered, a smile on his lips, "Are you trying to tell me that you love me, Bakura?"

Now it was Bakura's turn to blush. And what a delightful shade of scarlet he turned. "So, am I forgiven or what?"

"As long as I am," Ryou replied, trailing his index finger along the length of Bakura's scar.

"That tickles," Bakura told him, wrinkling his nose, "And since you don't seem to be listening at all when I tell you that you shouldn't be sorry, for your sake I'll say I forgive you." When Ryou stuck his tongue out at him, he smirked. "Besides," he added, "Doesn't it make me look kind of badass?"

It was all Ryou could do to not fall off of the bed laughing.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Something special just for you Tendershippers out there. I'm not too sure where this one came from, but I hope you liked it anyway!


End file.
